


heaven's in your eyes

by waterleveldropping



Series: jonelias week 2020 [7]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Domesticity, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Post-Canon, Stockholm Syndrome, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterleveldropping/pseuds/waterleveldropping
Summary: “How old are you again?”“Fifty seven.”“No, like… in general?”Elias sits up and swings his legs over the edge of their bed. “I’m not going to answer that.”“C’mon, it’s not everyday you turn…” Jon hesitates. “Two hundred forty two?”---Its Elias's first birthday of the year. If anyone is still counting years, that is.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: jonelias week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860007
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	heaven's in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "dynamic shift/choices"
> 
> timeline is a bit nebulous here. its post-change, but domestic. dont think too hard about it.

The room is cold when Jon wakes up. He squints at the small analog clock on their wall, then sits up on his elbow, puts his glasses on, and squints again. 

6 AM. 

Shivering, he pushes the silk blankets off of him and steps onto the cool wooden floor. He makes his way to the hall, to the thermostat, and turns the heating on with fumbling fingers. 

After using the bathroom, he stands in the kitchen for a while, sipping water and contemplating if he should just start his day now. The air is still cold though, and the sun is just barely starting to rise. He pours the rest of his water in the sink and forgets about it. 

The heating kicks on as he settles back into bed. Elias is still asleep, grey hair out of it’s usual strict styling. Jon pushes some strands behind Elias’s ear and stares for a while. Their bed is king-sized as per Elias’s expensive tastes, and while Jon appreciates it, sometimes it feels too big for the two of them. Jon frowns at how far away they’d been sleeping, and positions himself under Elias’s arms, trying not to wake him. 

He probably sleeps for another hour before he’s properly awoken by Elias shifting next to him, trying to pull his arm out from under Jon. 

“Good morning, Jon.” Elias says against his temple, where he presses a soft kiss.

Jon groans in response. “Hi,” he blinks awake. “Happy birthday.” 

“Please don’t remind me,” Elias frowns, making Jon smile. 

“How old are you again?” 

“Fifty seven.”

“No, like… in general?”

Elias sits up and swings his legs over the edge of their bed. “I’m not going to answer that.” 

“C’mon, it’s not everyday you turn…” Jon hesitates. “Two hundred forty two?”

“Two hundred thirty one, please,” Elias quickly corrects, clearly anticipating the guess. He sighs, walking into their shared bathroom, and hopefully, away from this conversation. 

“Right, right, sorry. I always get the decade confused.”

“Mmm.” Elias says, toothbrush in mouth and eyes fixed strictly on the mirror. 

Jon rolls over onto his back, stretching. “Also, it really is unfair that you get two birthdays.”

“Is it now.” Elias says when he’s back in bed. 

He’s sat on the edge of the bed, leaned on one hand, giving the impression that he could potentially be influenced back into bed, were Jon to try. “A lot of things are unfair, Jonathan.” 

“Like what?” Jon asks, to be inflammatory. 

“The length of your hair,” Elias starts, running a hand through Jon’s dark curls. “Your wonderful voice,” 

“Come off it,” Jon snorts. Elias trails kisses from his jaw to his neck, speaking against his skin.

“Your perfect mouth, your _eyes._ ” Elias shifts to kiss Jon’s lips proper now, wraps an arm around him and slowly presses Jon back into the wealth of pillows on the bed. Turns out he doesn’t need much convincing.

“The fact that I had to wait for two hundred and twenty eight of those years to meet you.”

Jon huffs into the kiss, Elias bringing a hand to drift up and under the old T-shirt Jon uses as pajamas. 

Elias pulls away for a second, staring at Jon. His wavy hair is spread across the pillow, body still lazy and limp with sleep, his dark cheeks wonderfully flush. “The fact that you’re mine, however, does seem very fair. No one else could cherish you like I do.” 

Jon does blush at that, his small frame pinned underneath Elias’s sure hands and firm body straddling his hips. “Well, I mean,” he tries, but fails to get the words out of his foggy brain. Under Elias’s gaze, he feels like he doesn’t need to say anything at all, that everything is already understood.

“Can I show you how thankful I am to have you in my bed?” Elias says, completely seriously, and Jon shudders, nodding. It’s not… all bad to have married someone personally familiar with the intricacies of Victorian courtship. 

Jon’s too-big band shirt is pushed up with deft hands, leaving his chest bare to the still-not-quite warm air of their flat. It would be unpleasant if Elias’s hands weren’t so warm when they cupped his breasts, his hot breath against Jon’s chest making the London winter bearable.

“You’re so small, you fit perfectly in my hands,” Elias says as he presses kisses along Jon’s chest. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” 

Jon lets out a small whine, grabs his shirt and holds it up to allow Elias easier access. 

“You used to not let me touch you here. I’m so glad we worked that out, you really do react very well to it.” Fingers graze over Jon’s small nipples, as Elias pinches and flicks and rubs at them. It’s true that his chest is very… receptive to even the smallest touch, and Elias makes sure to take advantage of that as much as he can. 

He runs a warm tongue over the nipple he doesn’t have his hand on, eyes locked on Jon’s face, the wonderful expressions he makes, the small sounds he bites back despite Elias always encouraging him to use that voice of his however he wanted. Jon feels warmth pooling between his thighs, leaking out as he let Elias use his chest however he wants, unrelenting. 

Once Jon is thoroughly worked up, panting and dizzy, Elias pulls off, resting his head lazily on Jon’s chest. “Jon,” he spoke through the hammering of Jon’s heart, a sound he could hear very well from his current position. 

“Elias.” Jon replied, smiling down at him, ran a hand through his hair. Elias was grey all over, Jon only at his temples. For Jon, it was more a result of stress and overwork, but it suited Elias perfectly, complemented his eyes. 

“Would you allow me a selfish request?” Elias asked, sitting up.

“I mean, it is _your_ birthday. Whatever you want.” 

“Yes. Well, I’m afraid it’s a bit embarrassing.” 

Jon blinked. When had Elias ever been shy about what he wanted? “Go ahead,” he urged, curious himself now.

“Jon,” Elias said, taking one of Jon’s hands in his own. “I want very badly for you to dominate me.”

Oh. 

Jon opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Well, that’s not entirely true-- a small, confused noise much too high-pitched for his liking escaped Jon’s throat. 

“Y-You’re sure?” Jon swallowed, finally finding his voice. “I don’t think I’d be… very good at that.” 

“Of course you would,” Elias reassured. “You’d do beautifully, you’ve always exceeded my expectations, Jon.” 

Jon was beginning to get nervous. Not nervous enough to say no, refusing wasn’t usually on the menu with Elias. But Jon had never been asked to take the initiative before. Like most things, everything usually just happened _to_ him, not because of him, his relationship with Elias no exception. 

Not to say he didn’t enjoy it, he loved his husband, and he loved sleeping with him, even if he’d scarcely had sexual encounters prior to this. It was alright, it meant that they got to try all sorts of new things together, but Elias was usually the one introducing Jon, pushing him to go further. 

This proposition was just another instance of that, he told himself as he sat up in bed, let Elias change their positions so he was no longer in Jon’s lap. Jon felt a bit lost at that already, and looked to Elias for guidance. 

“Will you help me out, tell me what you’d like me to do?” Jon asked, trying his best to have an air of confidence. 

“You’re going to do just fine.” Elias smiled. “It’s your first time, I’ll be lenient,” he added.

Jon nodded. “Right,” he cleared his throat. “I..” he paused, stuck. Asking Elias to do things felt wrong. Jon didn’t even particularly like talking about sex, using those words felt strange in his mouth. 

“Do you want…” Jon took a quick breath. Elias was watching his every movement, every twitch of his face. “Do you want to go down on me?” 

“Yes,” Elias answered immediately. 

“Okay, we can-- ah!” Jon exclaimed as Elias all but picked him up and pulled him to the edge of their bed. Jon was very small and weighed almost nothing, and Elias took advantage of that fact more than Jon was comfortable admitting. 

Elias positioned himself between Jon’s thighs, the image of him kneeling was a foreign one to Jon, but certainly not unwelcome. He could do this… probably. Jon laid back slightly to pull his sweatpants off before Elias’s hands on his own stopped him. 

“Let me.” Elias smiled, and had Jon’s sweatpants off in a manner of seconds. Jon would have been surprised at the enthusiasm but no sooner did his pants hit the floor than Elias press a tongue into Jon’s cunt through his boxers. 

Jon keened, the feeling being almost enough to make him forget about his reservations about this situation. He had always enjoyed the feeling of being touched through fabric, the barrier made him feel less self-conscious. 

“Elias… you’re so warm.” Jon sighed happily, letting his fingers find their way back into Elias’s hair. At least from this angle, he could continue running his hands through it, soft and unstyled, and serving as an anchor. 

Once Jon’s boxers were thoroughly soaked, Elias took it upon himself to rid Jon of them, too, leaving Jon naked from the waist down, and very aware of that fact. He didn’t enjoy that he could see himself from this angle, usually when Elias fucked him it was easy to look away and focus on the sensation, but here, he didn’t have that option. Well, unless he…

“Would you like to taste me?” Jon asked, his voice shaking only slightly. Elias nodded, blinking up at him lovingly. Jon’s hands guided Elias’s face flush between his thighs, until his view was mostly obscured. 

“You taste lovely, Jon,” Elias said, beginning to run a tongue over Jon’s clit, his folds, his entrance. “I wish you knew how lovely you are, how lucky I am that I get to do this for you.” 

Jon felt his heart tighten at the praise. He wasn’t going to be able to properly be what Elias needed him to be if he kept talking like that. In an attempt to remedy the situation, he pressed Elias further into him-- perhaps a bit too roughly, by the sound Elias made. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon spoke through a gasp. 

“You can pull it. My hair,” Elias elaborated. “I know how much you enjoy running your fingers through it. Try pulling it.”

Jon did. He gave an experimental tug, nothing too hard, but Elias moaned nonetheless. 

“We both know you can do better than that, Jon. Harder.”

“I don’t-- I don’t want to hurt you,” Jon hoped the panic in his voice wasn’t all that noticeable.

“I want you to. Go on.” Elias urged again.

Jon took a breath, spread his fingers out across Elias’s scalp, and then pulled, trying to forget his inhibitions. The effect was immediate, Elias pitching forward and making a sound Jon had rarely heard him make before. Like a cross between a whine and a shout as he buried himself deeper into Jon, continuing to work his cunt. 

The reaction spurred Jon on, giving him the slightest bit of a power trip. This much control had him feeling so different, he enjoyed Elais taking care of him, but he supposed he could get used to this from time to time as well. 

“Very good, Archivist.” Elias pulled away to say, dazed. “Just like that.” 

Jon nodded, trying not to get too hung up on the title. Elias barely called him that anymore. Elias kept his mouth on Jon’s cunt, tongue dipping into him occasionally and causing Jon to tighten the hold he kept on Elias’s soft hair. 

“Close,” Jon gasped. “Elias, wait--” 

Elias pulled away for only a second, pressed a kiss to the inside of Jon’s thigh and murmured “Use me however you see fit, Jon.”

Jon flushed at the words, that same confidence coming back, and he pulled Elias’s face close to him again. 

“Yes, yes, yes, r-right there.” Jon rambled pathetically, his climax building in his stomach. “Right there, please, Elias, _please--_ ” He pitched all the way forward, locking his legs around Elias’s back, thighs tight and hips desperately grinding against Elias’s face, using him to ring the last pulses or orgasm from himself. 

It felt unlike anything Jon had ever done before. The act of using someone— his husband no less— like that, felt indescribable. It was incredible, and Jon collapsed on his back onto the bed, panting, unable to support himself. 

After a minute or two of staring at the ceiling, Elias pulled himself back up onto their bed, into Jon’s immediate line of sight. He gave a lazy smile at Elias, leaned into his touch.

“You did perfectly. My wonderful Jon.” Elias said, sitting next to him and brushing his sweat-strewn hair from his face. “Did that feel nice?”

“More than nice,” Jon said, pulling himself up. “That was… was that what you wanted?” 

“Part of it, yes.” Elias replied. 

“Part of it?”

“Would you do me a favor and ask me what else I had in mind?” 

Jon nodded. _“What do you want me to do to you, Elias?”_

The shiver that ran through Elias’s body was unmistakable. He exhaled slowly, savoring the sensation, the buzz that crawled through his spine and out his throat. 

“I want you to ride me. I want you to push me down whilst you fuck yourself on my cock, and I want to be completely at your mercy when you do. I want so badly to come inside of you, fill you completely and utterly, and then plug you up so you remain full of me for the rest of the day, up until I use that same spend to fuck you tonight, make a complete mess of you. For the entirety of the day, I want to be on your mind, never allowing you to forget that you’re all for me, Jon.”

“Y-yeah,” is all Jon can say, stupidly. His mind, already foggy from post-orgasm haze, may as well be running on auto-pilot. Those inhibitions are all but forgotten now, and Jon doesn’t even know when they dissipated, all he knows is he’s on top of Elias, pushing him down into their pillows, straddling him, his lower half still naked. 

Elias isn’t, however. Elias’s pajama pants and underwear are still on, Jon realizes, and then works to remedy that. Elias chuckles as Jon fumbles Elias’s own pants down, freeing his half-hard cock from his underwear. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Elias chuckles from underneath Jon, and Jon makes a face at him. 

“You’re the one who asked for this. In detail, might I add.”

“And you’re the one making it a reality.” Elias counters with a satisfied smile. 

Jon leans off for a second to find the lube in the small bedside drawer, and then he’s back in position, his own thighs straddling Elias’s, his hand warming the lube before spreading it across Elias’s cock. 

He works him to full a bit faster than usual, but still takes time to stare at the expressions Elias makes, the pleasure on his face as Jon works him under his hand. Pooling some more lube onto his fingers, Jon strokes himself between his legs, dips two fingers in, but he knows he’s already loose from before.

He cants his own hips up to line himself up with Elias’s cock. “Ready?” 

“Unequivocally.”

Jon sinks down onto Elias, hissing as he adjusts himself. Elias is not large, but he also isn’t small by any means, but thankfully Jon isn’t too tight from the frequency that they do this, and relaxes into it. He’s almost taken all of him, going his own pace, when Elias jerks his hips up and shoves himself full into Jon. Jon all but squeaks and glares down at Elias.

“I thought you wanted me to take the lead.” He chides.

“Nothing wrong with giving you a bit of incentive,” Elias replies smugly. “You look so good on my cock, Jon. Like a painting.” 

Jon dips forward to kiss him, if only to stop him from praising him more. The words make his cheeks burn and his confidence threaten to fade, but with Jon’s tongue in his mouth, Elias can’t say much of anything, at least not out loud. He feels Elias twitch inside of him when they kiss, and soon the pressure becomes too much, and Jon pulls away to start moving in Elias’s lap.

Elias’s usual demeanor has been shed for something much more indulgent. He’s all fluttering lashes and breathy moans under Jon, his hands pressing into Jon’s hips and pressing him down in tune with Jon’s own rhythm. 

“You look good beneath me,” Jon pants, trying his best to be what Elias wants. He’s never been very good at dirty talk, never known what to say, but he thinks he can manage to improvise until Elias finishes. If all goes well, it shouldn’t take long. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Elias chokes out. “You’re so good, Jon, you’ve always been so obedient for me. Letting me take whatever I like.” 

Jon almost flinches at that. He doesn’t particularly like thinking back on the past, before the change, before Elias found him. They’re so content together now, none of the events that got them there matter-- Elias is all Jon needs.

“I’m yours, Elias,” Jon whispers, taking one of Elias’s hands in his own, interlacing their fingers, pressing a kiss to the ring. “I’m all yours, your Archivist.” 

“My Archivist,” Elias repeats through a whine. “My beautiful Archive, you’re so important to me, Jon.” 

Jon hums, his legs starting to ache from the exertion. He can tell Elias is close, it’s all over his thoughts, so he switches their position and leans over him, presses a kiss to his eyelids, runs a hand shakily through his hair again. 

“You’re close,” Jon whispers.

“Yes,” Elias says through gasps. 

“Would you like to finish?” 

“I do, but I have one more thing to ask of you.” 

“Anything.” 

“Call me by my own name,” Elias says. “Please.” 

Jon blinks a few times, stares at Elias, holds his gaze. Jon’s expression is mostly blank, but Elias’s eyes are pleading, begging Jon to oblige. 

“Jonah,” Jon says, flat and stern, and he pushes down onto Elias, taking all of him even though it hurts to. “Oh, Jonah.” 

Jon brings a hand up to Elias’s face, cups it sweetly. “Do you want to finish inside of me?” 

Elias nods, trying to memorize the forlorn yet tender expression on Jon’s face as he stares at him. Jon isn’t moving his hips anymore, and Elias is buried to the hilt inside of him. 

“Could you finish just from hearing your name? Does it feel that good to have me speak it?” 

“Yes. Please, Jon.”

“My dear, dear Jonah. Let go for me. You’ve been so good.”

Elias does, the warmth flooding into Jon not a pleasant feeling, but Jon focuses his attention on the look on Elias’s face, the absolute ecstasy in his expression. When Elias’s breathing evens out a bit more, he takes Jon’s hand, kisses it, then pulls him close to him. Jon rests his head on Elias’s chest, warm and smelling of sweat and aftershave. 

Elias pets Jon’s hair, whispers so very many words to him in quiet and loving tones. He’s still inside Jon, and Jon shifts a bit, the feeling still being a lot even now. 

“I knew you’d handle it beautifully.” Elias says, and Jon flushes slightly. The embarrassment begins to set in now, in a mind less clogged with desire and want. 

Elias flips Jon onto his back on the bed, produces a plug from the bedside table, and pulls himself out slowly. Jon feels himself gasp as the cold metal enters him, but the sensation eventually fades, and he’s soon pulling his underwear and sweatpants back up again. 

“You did so very well Jon,” Elias coos as he’s kissing him. “You’re perfect. I couldn’t ask for anyone better to spend my life with.” 

“I love you,” Jon answers.

In response, and with startling finality, Elias presses a soft kiss to Jon’s eyelid. 

**Author's Note:**

> "sorry for writing fluffy jonelias." "some crimes can never be forgiven."
> 
> im even more sorry for the fact that the title is from lana del rey's 'national anthem'. i wrote like so much for this week please let me be self indulgent once. i put stockholm syndrome in there at least... is that enough? 
> 
> phew! well thats jonelias week 2020 done, then. ive never written for a ship week, but this was a ton of fun. if youve read all the prior entries, or just this one, thank you regardless! ill definitely keep writing for these two, theyre very fun. 
> 
> and happy august 30th, jurgen leitners death day!!! how fitting a day to end this week on. remember to do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up if true books and thank elias for being so sexy to beat a man w a lead pipe!
> 
> thanks for reading! comments are appreciated <3


End file.
